Mass Effect: Together
by SpaceBunny-chan
Summary: He didn't ask for this. Then again, neither did she. - WARNING: Hum!OC x Tur!OC -
1. A Human and a Turian: Elevator

**Forward: **... what have I done?

* * *

**Mass Effect: Together**

_A Human and a Turian_

Part One: Elevator

* * *

Silence, save for the small purr of the elevator, pushed its way between the two occupants. A voice cast shattered the calm, causing the young human to jump from her thoughts.

Rika's expression flushed with color, embarrassment fighting to be seen on her tanned skin. The only reason she had taken the lift down today was because the office had been buzzing with volus negativity. On a good day (if there even was such a thing) Ambassador Din was intolerable. Something about this day had him nearly excruciating to the point of physical pain. For one reason or another he had decided that Rika needed to know every detail of fault with humanity and its politics. She had much more to do with the elcor's affairs than her own species, but Din had taken it upon himself to educate her just the same. Then, in a flash of genius, Ambassador Calyn remembered his need for Rika to run an errand.

Now, a turian had seen her jump at a harmless news flash about the possible plummet of mining stocks.

Nadleeh was going to have a lovely time drinking to this one.

She felt the rumble of his chuckle bound off of every wall. Rika chanced a glance in the turian's direction, instantly regretting doing so when he, in turn, looked at her. The two stared at each other, tensing at the obvious awkward implications. He registered her as human after a moment and then turned back to examining the intense white of the doors. Rika felt compelled to do the same.

He was definitely male, but her mind had registered that when she realized she would be sharing this ride. Not that Rika would recognize a female turian, she could not even be sure if she had ever seen one. They were, after all, so rare a sight on the Citadel. He was also fairly young, maybe even just a few years older than Rika herself, with no facial markings. Did that mean he had been raised on Palaven?

Or did that mean he was, oh, what was the expression, a "barefaced"?

"Excuse me, but…" Rika looked back to the turian, who at this point was staring holes through the elevator's shining metal. "That uniform means you're a member of C-Sec, right?"

It took him several seconds to respond. She watched _did she _really_ just ask such an obvious question_ cross his face. "Yes."

"I haven't seen you around before." Rika said, letting her thoughts dangle in the air.

He stared at her, seeming to not follow her assertion.

She stared back with an air of cautiousness.

_Nope. Not awkward at all._

"New?"

"Actually, I've been with C-Sec for over two years now."

"… Oh, wow…" Heat returned immediately to Rika's face. After living on the Citadel and having to run errands between C-Sec and the embassies for so long, Rika decided to hop on an elevator with the one officer she did not know. "Sorry, um… sorry."

"It's alright. I'm out on patrol most of the time; it's not likely you would have ever seen me before."

The walls around them spoke for her, sounding out a protesting moan. The elevator ceased it's decent, shaking the cabin. The two stared at the door. The door stared back.

"Attention. The elevator is experiencing technical difficulties." An automated voice page pierced through the still air. "Please remain calm. A technical team will be dispatched as soon as possible." The message repeated itself, replaced by another language.

"That's…" Slowly, realization dawned on Rika. "Not good, is it?"

"… No. No, it's not."

Of course, she was not one to think that the elevator breaking down every once in a while never happened. Things on the Citadel were like things back on earth. Everything worked, at least most of the time. Rika was just a little bit more than astounded that most of the time just so happened to be somewhere between the Presidium and the Wards. On an elevator. With a C-Sec turian who probably thought Rika embodied everything inferior about the human species.

Nadleeh would find this a wonderful excuse for a drink.

* * *

It takes approximately twenty minutes to assemble, equip, and deploy an emergency technical team. To actually fix anything, understandably, takes even longer.

After thirty minutes Rika had resigned to a long wait. To pass the time, she scanned half-heartedly through some files sent to the elcor ambassador earlier in the afternoon. It was actually a collection of email exchanges between an elcor couple in the midst of a rather nasty divorce. The husband was a highly esteemed businessman as well as a regular in the office. The emails were his idea of showing his wife was harassing him, but Rika only saw them as self-incriminating in the elcor's scandalous love affairs.

Elcor's having affairs. Calyn never allotted time to find boredom in his species.

Rika looked up from the small screen projecting from the orange glow enveloping her arm to reassure herself that the elevator's second occupant was still present. His back was to her, but, obviously, he had not left.

She noticed that he had taken off the metal face plate for the control panel. "If you don't mind me asking… what are you doing?"

He paused in his workings. She noticed his arm, alive with the glow of an omni-tool. "Hopefully finding whatever the problem is." Even though she had done so herself, he tried to play off forgetting her presence by returning to his self-imposed labor. "Maybe then we can get out of here."

"Attention, this is the technical team." A static charged voice, somewhat resembling a recently awakened woman, brought the com system briefly back to life. "We're having trouble isolating whatever the problem is… The only thing we can think of is that the problem is somewhere in the compressing system, but we're not going to rule out an electrical problem just yet. If you hear any noises, rest assured, it's just the tech team outside of the lift."

The woman paused, an agitated sigh shining through her voice. "Sir, please refrain from tinkering with the system." He seemed to ignore her, a gesture she did not appreciate in the least. "You may very well be the reason why we have yet to find the problem."

The turian glared at the intercom but conceded to the irritated woman's demands, leaning against the wall. Rika observed silently, debating leaving him to his thoughts or trying to renew conversation.

"What's your name?"

He looked at her, perplexed. Or as close as turian facial structure could allow. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Rika looked back at the drama of her mini screen, but no longer found elcor marital affairs all that interesting. She tapped her finger on the screen, disengaging the program. "After all, we might be here a while."

"Etlun Rajende." He closed his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. "And I hate to tell you this, but I know we're going to be here a while."

"My, that's reassuring." Rika sighed, leaning back as far into the wall as she could. Monitoring with a security camera was one thing, and Rika had no doubt that there was a microphone listening in on them as well. "Oh well, it could be worse. I could be stuck here on my own time."

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" She got the distinct impression Etlun did not appreciate her humor. Or he did not fully understand it. She suspected it was more likely the latter.

"Not particularly." Rika shrugged, and suddenly the bun holding her brown hair in place felt like it was pulling her skin much more tightly than it had been a few moments before. She massaged her fingers in circles over her throbbing temples. "I was on my way to C-Sec, but Ambassador Calyn probably doesn't expect me back for a while."

"Ambassador Calyn?" Etlun blinked, not sure he had heard her correctly. She saw the look; s_urely not_. "The elcor ambassador?"

"Officially, I'm his secretary." Rika confirmed, used to the confusion. Most people had little idea what to make of a human working in the elcor and volus embassy. "Mostly I just run errands, but occasionally I do get to actually do my job."

Etlun nodded simply, letting his eyes fall closed. Rika had another feeling; Etlun was not one for conversation. Silence settled around them, an uncomfortable blanket.

A sudden thud, the loud clanking of boots emanating from the ceiling, startled a shriek out of Rika.

"What's your name?"

Not able to comprehend the question, Rika looked at Etlun. His eyes, grey, strong and predatory, looked back, inviting her answer. Something about them made her think of horizon looming storm clouds, awaiting the moment to swallow her whole.

"… Rika." Surprisingly, her voice sounded even. Rika was thankful for that much. "Rika Thompson."

The elevator jerked ever so slightly, the hum of cooperative parts returning to its normal tempo.

"Attention, this is the technical team." The woman returned to point, sounding triumphant for curing their cancer. Once this was over, Rika was sure, the woman would return to sleep with much more satisfaction. "We have completed repairs and you should be arriving in the wards shortly. Have a nice day."

* * *

Rika, as it turned out, was not done with C-Sec for the week. The following day she made another appearance, much to the surprise of the network agents on duty. Calyn had been having complaints from various elcor of identity theft on the Citadel. Din seemed to be having much of the same problem with the various volus coming into the office. The volus ambassador had not wanted Rika mucking up his efforts to fix the problem, but she saw no harm in letting C-Sec know ahead of time the reports were coming.

The rest of the week was much of the same. Identity theft rippled through life on the Citadel much more quickly than Calyn and Din had expected, which meant much more work for Rika. Four trips to C-Sec, two visits to the Council Chambers, and one meeting at Chora's Den later, and Rika was ready for a vacation.

She sat, for the first time that week, doing paperwork in the office. C-Sec had released their case report, and Rika had the task of filtering through to interpret the jargon. A ring of salarian dock workers had been operating out of the work place, stealing information between docking and maintenance preparations. As soon as someone could walk into the ships bridge they would slip a disk into the computer and presto, they had access to all of the ships precious passenger information. Sophisticated stuff from what she could tell, and highly profitable.

Except for the part where they were being charged as galactic criminals, which might be a bit of a bump in their plan.

Rika paused in her readings. "Din, did you know there was a volus involved in the identity theft fiasco?"

"Don't you have something you could be doing, earth-clan?" Din grumbled, clearly not amused. He turned his frustration on the elcor. "Why is she going through the C-Sec reports?"

"Sighing," Calyn began, slow and steady. "Because I asked her to, just as I always do."

The volus ambassador grumbled, going back to his busy computer screen. For what it was worth, Rika understood his frustrations. The volus running the theft ring was the son of a prominent trade family operating in Citadel space. Even as the ambassador, Din rarely dealt with something this troubling from one of his own. Nothing promotes good-will between species like stealing money from under the others nose.

Rika decided to omit the volus' name from her statement.

"I've finished editing the C-Sec report, Calyn." Rika announced, stretching against the back of her chair. The movement made every muscle in her body protest. The elevator clung to her memory. Rika quickly pushed the thought aside. "Did you want me to issue the statement to the victims?"

"Relived. Yes, thank you." Calyn, slowly, sent a message he had been reaching for over the last thirteen or so minutes on his screen. The computer buzzed with a happy confirmation voice. "Once you're finished, you may leave."

"Don't you dare meddle with my work, earth-clan."

Din took more time to complain than Rika's computer needed to finish sending forty-eight messages. "… Whoops."

"Rika…" Din, all electric sputters and half-forgotten curses, pushed away from his desk. "One of these days, I _will_ have you arrested."

"Arrested? Me, Din?" Rika stood, allowing her omni-tool to begin downloading the rest of her files. If the week was any indication, the newest additions to her desk were going to need her full attention. Work was work, in the office or at home, and Rika had more than a handful to look over for tomorrow. "Don't you need to have a reason to arrest someone?"

"I'm sure I could think of something." Din, as he had obviously given this particular subject much consideration, only needed a moment to collect his own thoughts. "Conspiring on an inter-galactic scale, unauthorized use of classified documents-"

The door hummed.

The human stared in awe. Or fear. As Calyn had once observed, humans were a far too complex species to read. "Etlun?"

"Surprised. Din," Calyn looked at the volus, unbelieving. "You didn't…"

"I didn't." Din said, not understanding anymore than Calyn. He had no way of knowing why a C-Sec officer would now be entering the volus and elcor embassy. A thought came to him. "But as long as he's here…"

"Forcefully. Din."

"What are you doing here?" Once her omni-tool told the room in a dull ding it was finished downloading, Rika directed Etlun back out the door before either ambassador could think of anything interesting to contribute to the conversation.

"I just wanted to see if you were lying to me." Simple. Short. And what little Rika knew of him, very Etlun.

Rika had forgotten the hub connecting the embassies always bustled with people. She stopped forcing Etlun to take each step, but most of the lobby had already taken notice of the odd pair. Politely, they returned to their conversations, giving them at least the air of privacy.

"Rika?"

_Crap_. "Yeah, Saphyria?"

The asari receptionist, always doing more in a single moment than Rika could probably finish in half a day, eyed the turian standing next to her desk. At any moment, Rika thought, she would try and shoo him from her space. "Mr. Kryik left a message for you."

"Nihlus?" Rika, surprised, walked closer. The turian, in all the years she had known him, had never been shy about visiting her at work. If anything, he felt comfortable just walking in and distracting her from whatever she was supposedly working on.

Did that mean something was wrong?

Rika picked up the digital note pad offered her. The receptionist, under the guise of work, let her eyes follow the human as she turned on the screen. Words, tiny specks of numbers, magnified to full pixels.

A quickly scribbled note, signed Nihlus.

Rika's chocolate eyes scanned the letters, taking in each one hesitantly. Her tentative caution gave way as angry comprehension burned on Rika's face. Etlun jumped slightly at the eruption of her voice. "That- that- that **cheap**- that… oh!"

"Let me guess. He stood you up again?" Saphyria questioned, not expecting an answer. She shook her head, feeling truly sorry for the C-Sec officer. At least she had been expecting the outburst. He probably had no idea what he was getting into hanging around the human woman. Rika, words failing her, glared at the technology still clutched in her hands. Has she not worked with her for four years, Saphyria would be sure Rika would smash the thing at any instant. "Did he say why?"

"Council, mission, same old, same old." Rika sighed, pushing a button. The data danced away. "He promised to buy me dinner."

"_Again_?" The asari, perplexed, took back the pad. Even if he felt guilty, Spectre's were not any more well paid individuals than most military service men. Surely, his bank account was running close to dry by now. "How many dinners does he owe you now?"

"Seven."

"Just seven?"

"Not including last month. That would make it fifteen."

"You're… going to force him into debt." Saphyria shook her head, skeptical of the woman standing so innocently before her. Somehow Rika had Nihlus, a proud turian Spectre, owing her dinner every time he returned to the Citadel. The crime was that she had no idea how Rika had managed it. If Saphyria could do that, she would never bother coming back to her job with a static headache.

"No, I'll let him off easy this time." Rika laughed, if she pushed too much for every promise he made her Nihlus might stop treating all together. Maybe only one dinner. A really, really big dinner. "See ya tomorrow."

Saphyria was already engrossed by the three minutes worth of piled up calls and email requests.

Etlun had been so quiet during the entire conversation it took Rika several moments to remember he was walking with her out into the Presidium. Avina bubbled in the background, telling a tourist about the fascinating history of the asari being the first to visit the Citadel. Rika could not remember if she was the one who needed to speak, or if she was waiting for him to begin.

"You know Nihlus Kryik?" Thankfully, Etlun did not leave her to dwell on the best conversation starter.

"Doesn't everybody?" The words escaped before she could subdue the urge, all sarcasm and smoke. Etlun, though not voicing it, looked on with none of Rika's amusement. Even with such a sour look on his face, she still caught the glint of curiosity nearly foaming from his mouth. "We're friends."

"Why?" Anyone else, and Rika would have felt more than offended. She could not feel for an answer right away, something that the turian took as somewhat bad. "I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it." Rika laughed, waving her hand to shake off his slight horror. He was curious; she might as well indulge him. "We met when I was still working as the human ambassador's secretary."

"And now he owes you dinner every time he comes to the Citadel?"

"There's more to it than that." At least, Rika liked to think so. Nihlus would never just _buy_ someone dinner, after all. Or maybe she just didn't want to admit Etlun had her pegged. "Buy me dinner and I'll tell you all about it."

"Alright."

* * *

"He asked you out?"

In the pulse of a club, faces are lost in the crowd. Amongst the dancers of exotic flavor, a merely plain human is nothing more than an extra body. As the walls rumbled, a heartbeat of musical bass, Rika found herself to be one of those humans in Chora's Den. And given her surroundings, she would choose no other way. Standing out in a place like this could mean many things, most of which Rika would not want to happen upon herself.

"Not in so many words." Rika, a well to do secretary, sighed heavily. For reasons unknown and otherwise unfathomable, Nadleeh loved to drag her to this seedy underground for their little dates. At least once a week, they were fixtures at the bar.

"He's taking you out for a date, and you're trying to play it off." Nadleeh examined Rika, sizing for a better explanation. She found none, going back to her watching of their fellow patrons. All she saw was meat. "Modesty doesn't suit you, my love."

"_We_ go on dates." Rika said, trying to explain. She felt herself failing, looking for the waitress. If she was going to fall on her face, she could at least use another round before hitting the deck. "This is just dinner."

"Uh-huh. Lie to yourself if it makes you feel better." Nadleeh said, brushing off her friend as the waitress approached. Rika let out another fitful sigh as their drinks were delivered. "Is he picking you up?"

"Well, yeah…" Rika, for a moment, could not recall for sure. One look from Nadleeh, and she felt more inclined to say something to stop the upcoming onslaught. "But it doesn't _mean_ anything."

"Sweetie," Nadleeh, all Texas charm and southern grace, was the closest thing to a love doctor the Citadel had. Or at least, she liked to think so. Rika found many of her so called predictions to be far to laced with _bacardi_ to have any merit. "If it's nothing, then why are you being so defensive?"

Rika had no outstanding good answer. Absolutely nothing as her mind converted into a blank pallet of white. "I… I don't know, Nad, I just don't know."

"Don't know what?" The waitress, a cute little new girl with cropped hair, stopped in her rounds to refresh their drinks. Rika could not, for the life of her, put a name to her face. She only remembered Nadleeh had taken a fancy to her.

"Our Rika has conflicted feelings, my pet." Nadleeh said, jumping at the chance to converse. For many reasons, all of which the waitress had no idea. "Over a man, of all things."

"Really?" Janet -or something, the name still danced just beyond Rika's comprehension- blinked, intrigued. Her attention turned to Rika, currently hating herself at the bar. "How does he make you feel?"

Her head cradled against her palm, mildly supported by the bar, Rika closed her eyes. There were no words, there were a hundred words. She felt nothing, but at the same time felt so many things. Her thoughts were essentially going haywire, but always going to the same place. The same place that she did not feel she was all that comfortable with.

"Confused." Rika admitted, feeding her onlookers. She sunk slowly. "Very, very confused."

"Aw, you're in love!" To Rika's dismay, the woman let out a… something. Not a squeal. Not a yell. A something that Rika herself could only imagine coming out of a chihuahua. A teacup chihuahua that had been altered in a laboratory by salarian scientists.

Rika stared down at the shot glass clutched loosely in her hands. Her expression slightly tinted, she examined into its belly looking for the source of her delusional thoughts.

"Jenna, my sweet, you're so right." Nadleeh said, her blue orbs lighting up with a new idea. As her friend, a waterfall of unnatural violet hue, leaned in closer, Rika sensed she was being used as a plot for Nadleeh's newest notch. "Rika, if you love him, don't let him go."

Oh, Rika didn't like this. Not one tiny, little bit. "Guys, its just dinner."

"But you love him!" Jenna said, looking at Rika was her big innocent eyes. Eyes that were unable to see how Nadleeh looked at her. "How can you ignore your feelings?"

"Everyone!" Nadleeh said, turning in her stool to address almost the entire bar. The patrons, drunk or dancing, happily obliged so long as they were not occupied with _other_ things. Nadleeh pulled Rika close, as if putting her up on a shelf for everyone to see. "This is Rika, and she's in love!"

In retrospect: at least _someone_ was happy at the news, even if it was everyone but Rika.

* * *

**Mass Effect © BioWare  
Original Characters © Spacebunny-chan**


	2. A Human and a Turian: It's Just Dinner

**Author's Notes: **After close to two years, something about this story just hit me out of nowhere and demanded my attention. It started as flash fictions between a friend and myself, and evolved into pages of the scribbled nonsense I call story planning. The character's have become much more real to me over these last few months, and I'm eager to get the ball rolling again so I can share their story with you.

So this is for that friend, who pushes me to be the writer she is convinced I am, as well as those five wonderful reviewers who found the first chapter: thank you so much for your encouragement!

* * *

**Mass Effect: Together**

_A Human and a Turian_

Part Two: "It's Just Dinner"

* * *

After having put so much effort into convincing the patrons of Chora's Den that Rika was _just going out to dinner_, it was irritating how anxious she felt. That and she cleaned like a mad woman when her nerves got the best of her- which, truth be told, she could blame her mother for.

She shook away memories of a woman weeping in an immaculate kitchen.

Having rearranged the pillows on her couch for the umpteenth time, Rika finally gave up. She didn't have much to her name in her minute apartment that she could harass; a few pictures that spanned her life and a collection of knickknacks on display. Everything else was in storage where, in her mind, it belonged.

When she began to contemplate the reassembly of her kitchen, the _bing_ of the call button reminded her that she was overreacting. That didn't stop Rika from checking her appearance in the mirror once more before answering.

The door slid open and Etlun stood at attention. Rika stared at him for a long moment. She was very familiar with the turian expression of guilt, but she didn't understand why she was seeing it on the C-Sec officer. "…Something wrong?"

"Why?" Etlun's back, if at all possible, seemed to become much straight, and Rika felt herself raise an eyebrow in question. He was quick to motion to the name plate next to her door. 'F. Thompson' greeted in pixilated letters. "I… just wasn't sure I had the right address."

Which disarmed her for half a breath, as she was very aware a C-Sec officer had the means and authority to look up something as simple as a residence. The subtle hint this gave her of Etlun trusting her to give him accurate information should not have surprised her, yet Rika found herself looking at the turian in a slightly... different light. In her mind's eye she could see Etlun, fearing he had gotten himself mixed up, pacing the hall several times before finally bringing himself to ringing the door bell.

Rika looked him up and down a few times, and she was pleased to find he was casually dressed and just as on edge as she was. Her jeans and tailored shirt seemed inexplicably appropriate. She smiled, taking comfort and amusement from their mutual uneasiness.

"Curious?"

"A little." He made room for her in the hallway. The door to her apartment locked, clicking and hissing, as they made their way toward the elevator. "Anywhere in particular you want to eat?"

"Somewhere that sells burgers, I think." Rika had been craving a few patties of meat since Din had stumbled upon a study that deemed them toxic. He had been appalled Rika was partial to them, and if only on principle she wanted to "contaminate the office".

"Burgers?" Etlun's confusion bordered on concerned. "Aren't those supposed to be poisonous?"

"So they tell me."

* * *

He was staring.

"You're staring."

Rika saw Etlun bristle under the attention, and was brought back to when she was just beginning to know Nihlus. Then, she had found herself rightly fascinated by the second hand nature so many different plates worked together to create expression. It had amused him, noting how he was also curious as to how human skin did much the same in an alien way.

The secretary wondered how long before he asked the question his face betrayed.

"What is _that_?"

Not long, it seemed.

"_This_," Rika held up the _thing_ in question. "Is a hamburger."

"… A hamburger." He repeated dully, despite the flang to his voice.

"Bingo." At the blank look, she added: "It's a human thing."

"It looks-" Etlun paused to observe her taking a bite, caught somewhere between intrigue and disgust. Rika's lip twitched trying to keep her smile at bay. "_Interesting_."

"So does your _cosata_."

The tilt of his head, though slight, reflected Etlun's surprise. "You know about turian food?"

"Interested?"

"You work as the secretary in the volus and elcor embassies and hang with a well known turian Spectre." Etlun put aside the turian equivalent of a fork, leaning on the table to peer more closely at the human. "I'm very interested."

He looked sincere; something that seem to be as natural to him as breathing. If she was learning anything about the turian known as Etlun Rajende, it was how partial he was to honesty. It was a turian trait she had become familiar with, something hammered into them since birth. The philosophy of a higher calling than the individual equated to being good for the whole by self-sacrifice in their culture. At least that was as much as she could figure from having observed Nihlus for so long. But she had come to know many turian's on the Citadel, and not all of them stuck to such high values. That was why she had attached to Nihlus and, she suspected, why she was quickly becoming fond of Etlun.

_Fond_. Something about the idea made her want to squirm under that intense gaze.

"Mm. Well," The brunette settled for not dwelling on such things, instead taking a sip from her beer. It wasn't the fruity nonsense she could down like candy, but the warmth clung to her cheeks immediately. The buzz was instantaneous and the only reason she ever touched a _miller_, especially during such occasions when she just wanted to not give a damn. "Where to begin…"

"The beginning is usually a good place to start."

Rika's eyebrows shot up immediately.

"Was that _humor_?" She said the words carefully, but not at all with the intention to mock. On the contrary, she was very pleasantly surprised. Up until that point, she had assumed Etlun to be above such a thing as banter. Noticing a slight twitch of his mandibles, a small indication she had noticed whenever Nihlus was too polite to laugh, confirmed that he was indeed trying to be playful.

_When did he start to feel so comfortable?_

"_The beginning_," Rika decided to indulge him. "Was about two years ago. Nihlus was working on a case that brought him to the human embassy following a lead, but his lead just so happened to be a human politician. Udina didn't budge-"

"Didn't budge?" Etlun seemed to interrupt despite his own restraint. "I wasn't aware one could just _not budge_ for a Spectre."

"Politics are a tricky business. It was the most… _polite_ argument I've ever seen."

Somehow, that didn't seem to justify the situation. There had been something surreal about seeing a turian, barely containing outrage, towering over a human who had been painted red at such a sudden accusation.

"Nihlus knew this wasn't a scenario he could just pull his gun out and start shooting, as much as he might have wanted to- which was probably a lot, knowing Nihlus. But I wasn't exactly Udina's biggest fan either."

* * *

The confusion on the turian's face asked the question before he could. "…I'm sorry?"

Rika could already tell this was going to be a fun conversation.

She tried again: "I'd like to help you."

"Well Ms.-"

"Rika."

"Ms. Rika-"

"Just Rika."

She reached out a hand.

He made a face.

"**Rika**." Nihlus paused, continuing when she didn't jump to add anything further. The brunette hadn't met many turians aside from the few that came into the ambassador's office, all of whom were politicians. The idea suddenly made her feel at a disadvantage. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think you realize what you're getting yourself into-"

"Look, thank you, but I do." Rika knew he was growing impatient, but she needed to set him straight. Her hand, having not been occupied with a strong grip, somehow found its way into a motion that tried to calm him for just another minute. "That being said, this is a little bigger than just me. So, like it or not, here I am."

Whatever expression Nihlus was conveying was lost on Rika entirely. If she had to guess he at least looked impressed. Impressed and frustrated, but Rika seemed to have that effect on people.

"Are all humans like you?"

"No. Most are quite sane."

"Then you're my kind of human." His face made an odd twitch. The turian stretched out a three fingered hand.

Score one for humanity.

* * *

"I did a little digging, one thing led to another, and the ugly truth came out. When C-Sec did the investigation they were only looking for one girl. But someone noticed a pattern- a big one- so the Council decided to step in. Nihlus found out someone had been having human girls kidnapped, all around twelve years old with blonde hair and green eyes. They were from all over- Titan, Omega, Roth- so scattered no one realized the extent of the whole thing. Officially, there were twenty-seven of them, but I wouldn't be surprised if there were more. What he did to them was…"

Rika took hold of her lower lip between her teeth. The mere thought brought back a tingle of revulsion in her stomach.

* * *

She could feel silence screaming in her ears.

"This can't... Is this really…?"

For the first time, Nihlus would not look at her. Something in his eyes sang of defeat and refused to leave the shot of alcohol in his hand. She didn't blame him. Every muscle in her body wanted to chuck the datapad as hard as she possibly could. She wanted to see it in pieces, to pretend that someone couldn't possibly be capable of such cruelty.

"He did this to **children**?"

Green eyes closed, but with such effort it seemed to cause the turian pain. The shot disappeared in one swift motion.

Rika found she couldn't bare the sights assaulting her senses. She flicked her wrist. Missing Person reports. _Flip_. Transaction history. _Flip_. Autopsy reports. _Flip_-

She paused over a list, taking a second to really understand the names staring back at her.

"Twenty-seven?"

"At least."

The waitress had left the bottle of whatever Nihlus was drinking, as well as an extra shot glass. The human was taking the shot before she realized what she was doing. It seared her throat on the way down, raging in her stomach. She could feel him staring at her as she choked, and she was very aware that it had been years since her first drink.

Five fingers refilled their glasses.

Nihlus watched in silence as the little human forced down another drink, refusing to hack with the same intensity as her first attempt. Her eyes were watering, or she was fighting to keep her emotions in check. If she were honest it was the latter, but she was clinging to how warm her face suddenly was.

"Damn." Her voice was scratched to hell, and she marveled at the one hundred proof the bottle of _gazio_ proclaimed.

"You know that's not good for you, right?"

"Good thing I don't have a job to call out of anymore."

The turian threw back his own drink, but it was obvious he had been to this rodeo before. The glass clinked. He refilled another set and then brought up his glass.

"I'll drink to that."

* * *

The Dug-Out on the Kithoi Ward always bustled with people. Today was no exception, though truth be told Rika wasn't paying attention at this exact moment. Most restaurants catered to one particular pallet unless they happened to be located near the Presidium. But the Dug-Out wasn't just any restaurant, it was Jason's restaurant. Rika had been coming here regularly enough to have met him and knew two truths about the New Yorker. The first was his love of baseball, which explained the chosen decor of green walls and vids playing every major game in Citadel space, and the second was his obsession with quarian food.

The fact that he could even digest quarian food was somewhat of a mystery, but the results had been an epiphany that had made Jason Gaynes a very rich man.

The eruption of noise coming from the bar signaled someone's team was making them proud, as well as letting Rika know Jason was about.

Etlun watched her carefully, his eyes tracing her features with an unsure curiosity. Not that he needed to look too hard. Rika had never been very good at hiding her feelings, something she could no doubt thank her Hispanic heritage for. A warm blooded Latina, which was just a nice way of saying she was loud, obnoxious, and convinced she was always right.

_God_, she really was turning into her mother.

"So you're the reason Udina's balding."

Rika's laugh erupted with surprising volume, but the comment had the desired effect. The strain evaporated instantly. Her knuckles ceased to be white and the knot tying itself with her insides uncoiled. Etlun allowed a satisfied smile and a drink.

"I'd like to think so." Rika said, going to take a swig of her beer only to find it empty. For some reason, it didn't bother her. "Regardless he fired me, but some strings were pulled. I was kept on, but obviously I couldn't work under Udina. I was transferred to work for the elcor and volus ambassador's, and that's the story."

He was looking at her with a suspicious beam.

"You…" Etlun began, still somewhat digesting what he had just been fed. "Are the most interesting human I've ever met."

"I try." Rika grinned at his chuckle, finding something there. Turian, human, there was always a joy to hearing someone being so entertained. "Your turn." She watched the meaning of her words fly right over his head. "This is the part where you tell me something about yourself."

* * *

How easy it was to forget that "understanding" was not a word in his father's vocabulary. In the wake of him storming out of the kitchen the two that remained were left in silence, but only as long as the woman's nerves could stand it.

"Etlun." He looked over at his mother, who attempted some reassurance in a smile. "Give him time, _filio_. He loves you, he just... needs time."

Unfortunately, "time" was another concept beyond his father's comprehension.

* * *

The ease the turian had been exuding hardened. The brunette wasn't exactly surprised, but wouldn't deny it did give her pause.

"Something about me, huh…" Etlun observed his food in thought, which to Rika looked more like a fungus than anything else. The smile that cracked his shell didn't escape her. "I think you need to take me out to dinner first."

Whatever the turian- whose skin, she was just realizing, had an almost silver tint to it- was hoping to see appeared on Rika's face by way of slight shock.

"Oh, you're good."

"I try."

Either he was learning, or dinner was going better than she'd expected.

* * *

**Mass Effect © BioWare****  
****Original Characters © SpaceBunny-chan**


	3. A Human and a Turian: Three Krogan

**Author's Notes:** I feel like I should clarify something: I love Etlun. No, really, I do. Sure it might not look that way on the outside, but that's why he gets to go on such awesome adventures. I also love Nihlus, as little character development as they give him. Not that I can complain, as it leaves plenty of room for interpretation on my end.

I also love krogan. Then again I'm a sucker for BioWare aliens in general, so I'm not really sure if I can claim krogan are special in that regard. Good thing it doesn't make their species any less fascinating, especially when it's such a surreal take on Japanese culture.

But enough of my banter.

Thank my brother and _Pandora's Lie_ for this chapter, because without them this would have been much less interesting.

Also a special shout out to _YoshiSupport_, for being my first reviewer in two years. Keep on rockin'.

* * *

**Mass Effect: Together**

_A Human and a Turian_

Part Three: Three Krogan Walk Into a Bar

* * *

Two years of observation had Etlun Rajende very aware that any C-Sec call that had Salei Gin commenting on how _fun this was going to be_ was going to be anything but. There was always some story to take away from drunk and disorderly conduct, something that they could grab drinks over or swap stories about in the locker room. And, perhaps, krogan were known for being particularly nasty to deal with, which was not at all surprising when consideration was given to how much alcohol was needed to breach such thick hides. But, he had still given the Sonata Karaoke Bar on Zakera Ward a chance.

"_What_?" Salei all but shrieked in delight.

The turian shot Salei a look that detailed how inappropriate laughing was. When the salarian had looked away and successfully shoved a fist in his mouth to stifle his snickering, his partner looked calmly back to the bar's owner. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to tell me exactly what's happened."

"I don't know!" The owner, an asari named Phyrae Y'Miia, wailed. She gestured with wide arms back to the entrance of the bar, now a figurative black hole of her despair. "One minute their fine. A little loud, but, hey, that's karaoke for you. The next, one is trying to dance naked on my bar, the other is throwing toilet paper **everywhere**, and-and I don't even know how to explain _him_." Phyrae made another wild motion upward, one that sang of absolute frustration. "_Please_, I-I don't know what to do!"

Ten minutes talking with this woman and he had more than enough reasons to never come back to Sonata, none of which had anything to do with the krogan wreaking havoc inside.

Etlun pushed aside the little voice that pointed out why that made him a bad person. "We'll take care of it, ma'am."

"Or die trying."

The relief that had been shining in Phryae's eyes committed suicide at Salei's comment.

Stepping into the bar was misleading. The soft purple and blues accents typical of many asari establishments were everywhere, assaulting Etlun's senses like a physically powerful aroma. Once his eyes adjusted he could see the hues were woven into the architecture at every turn; every surface was purple, while the lights that lined the room were gently blue for illumination. Few of the patron's even seemed to note the disturbance, chatting as if nothing had happened.

But then there was the half naked krogan on the bar, which did a fine job of shattering the respectable business image Phryae was probably going for. Etlun could then quite plainly see the aforementioned toilet paper decorating in random clumps, as well as hazard a guess at the culprit by the empty rolls adorning his fingers like trophies.

"I call toilet paper guy." Salei said, which did not surprise Etlun. Both blessed and cursed with salarian heritage, Salei could evaluate a situation just a fraction of a second faster than his turian counterpart. The twenty year old flashed a smile. "You mad, bro?"

"Just don't do anything to get shot at."

"Hey, that was _one time_, okay?"

Twice, but Etlun wasn't about to correct him. The ensuing argument would be even more _fun _than talking the perpetrator off of the bar.

Speaking of, said krogan was not nearly as exposed as Etlun had first assumed. He had made a good show of shrugging off his suit, but seemed to have lost patience halfway through the intricate buckles. The result was a shirtless krogan with the rest of his suit hanging like a pouch, which had mysteriously filled with credit chits.

Public disturbance, indeed.

"Excuse me."

Once he had elicited a collective giggle from a group of ladies still sitting at the bar, the half clothed krogan turned towards Etlun. The smile, obviously bordering on intoxicated, shocked the turian. He had expecting gaining the krogan's attention would be more of a challenge. This left him with a slight problem as he had yet to think of his logical next step.

_Right, Rajende. Because you're _great_ with people._

"_What's your name?"_

"What's your name?" The words surprised him, but rolled off his tongue with ease.

The krogan seemed entertained by another thought, but answered: "Dax."

"I'm Etlun." Which caused Dax to giggle. Etlun made a point of not commenting. "So, Dax, what are you doing up there?"

"Thron's son was born today." Dax said, winking at the bartender. The asari hid a smile behind her hand. Etlun could say this much about drunks: they never beat around the bush. "We thought we'd celebrate."

But still, this did raise a question or two. Between the genophage and clan wars, krogan birthrates were increasingly rare. Females were fiercely protected and sought after. They mated with mostly clan leaders and powerful warriors to keep their bloodlines strong, and a clan with a number of females was revered as well as vulnerable.

So if Thron just had a son…

"So then what are you guys doing on the Citadel?"

"Negotiating territory from the Council."

"… who is Thron, Dax?"

"Son of Hecht Aano, leader of Clan Hecht."

"Dax," Etlun began, very careful of his words. He wasn't good with people of his own species, so he was definitely not the person to call for delicate political solutions. "I don't think getting arrested is going to help your negotiations."

That seemed to stop the krogan's winks. "Arrested?"

"The bar owner called C-Sec." _And looked like she was about to have a heart attack._ "Don't worry, you're not under arrest yet; I only have to take you down to the station if you refuse to leave. I'd much rather make sure you guys get back to your hotel in one piece."

Dax did not even hesitate to jump from the bar, landing on powerful legs, and seeming for the world to not be under any influence. Then he waffled slightly, rubbing at his eyes, and Etlun could only guess at how much his world must have blurred.

"That-" Dax coughed, shaking his head to clear it further. "That will not be necessary. We will _come quietly_, as the humans say."

"Glad to hear it." Etlun felt his mandibles twitch in a smile. He patted the krogan on the shoulder as Salei waved irritatingly smug from where he stood. "Looks like my partner explained the situation to Thron. Let's get-"

"That's not Thron."

"... what?"

"That's not Thron." Dax repeated simply, shrugging his shoulders as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "That's Bomm."

_Okay… _ "Where is Thron, Dax?"

Etlun followed Dax's pointing finger. At first, all he saw was a corner. It was tucked next to the stage, and as far as he could tell there was nothing unusual about it. Then he realized a paneling of the ceiling was missing, which was also not unusual; with the Keepers constant comings and goings, it was not unusual to see things out of place.

Only, this particular hole had a krogan in it.

_Great._

"Ceiling krogan!" Etlun could hear Salei burst into a hysteric fit of laughter.

* * *

"Well, that was fun."

Once they had successfully talked Thron down, which had been in large part to Dax's surprisingly silver tongue and Bomm's insults, things had gone exceptionally smooth. Phryae had agreed not to press charges, as well as welcome the diplomats back so long as they promised not to do any redecorating to her establishment. They had all decided the night was over, and hailing a cab to send the three on their way had been the easiest thing in the world in comparison to figuring out how to squeeze Thron out of such a tiny opening.

"Your idea of _fun _never ceases to amaze me." Etlun replied minimally. The ordeal with the krogan representative's may have been over, but that hardly meant their day was done. Zakera Ward was never a dull moment, and they still had four hours for something even more exciting to happen.

"Speaking of _fun_: how was your date?"

Etlun had been avoiding the subject for the last two days, and certainly had no intention of changing his stance now. "It was just dinner."

But Salei, being a salarian, could not stomach leaving things unsaid. He preferred everything out in the open, where everyone could see. He liked the certainty of knowing. Etlun could understand, but even after two years together still found he held some distaste for having to put out his own secrets for up auction.

Unfortunately, his best friend loved prying things from him in the same demented way a dentist might enjoy pulling teeth.

Etlun briefly wondered if a crazy dentist would make for a better _best friend_.

""Just dinner". Because she's "just human", after all." Salei never made apologies for his air quotes, but still found himself raising both hands in surrender at the _look_ Etlun shot his way. "Not that I care that she is, mind you. It's just… she is, you know?"

"I don't."

"… Of course you don't." Even if he wasn't a maniac dentist, Salei was hardly surprised at the mild confuse hidden behind the turian's vestige of a blank expression. "Anyway, this human- Rika, you said her name was- what's she like?"

"She's-" Etlun took a moment to collect the onslaught of terminology his mind produced. Despite all the words, he could only focus on little things: her laugh and the way it colored her cheeks, or her eyes and how she could convey as much of her story with them than her vocabulary. The realization startled him, but he bit back any remark. "Not like any human I've ever met."

Salei regarded him for a long, hard minute. Etlun hadn't realized he had slowed his pace and quickly returned to their usual patrolling speed, but the momentary slip had given Salei's keen mind all the insight he needed.

Still, the salarian laughed a loud. "You don't know any humans."

"I know Sam and Terry." Etlun defended.

"They're not human, they're C-Sec." Salei countered. "Besides if Sam's what your basing your assumptions off of, you're sincerely insulting humanity. Guy should have been born a batarian."

"What about Terry?" Etlun asked. "He's nothing like Sam."

"You remember the incident with the thief?"

"… yeah."

"Enough said."

* * *

"You always look weird in civvies."

Etlun paused in trying to fasten the cuffs around his wrists to regard Salei with a questioning look. "You think so?"

"Then again, maybe it's a turian thing." Salei scratched at his cheek. "What's the saying: once a turian, always a soldier?"

"Born a turian, but forever a soldier." Etlun corrected, finally succeeding in dressing completely and properly. He brought his shoulders forward, trying to find some relief from how tight it felt across his scales. Suffocating was a good word for the feeling, and not at all the comfort of a glove fit like his uniform. But, he guessed, that was the price one paid for having worn some form of military attire since they were fifteen. Etlun slide his locker shut, then asked slowly: "You… really think I look weird in civvies?"

"Don't worry," Salei assured, patting Etlun on the back as they left the locker room. "Chicks dig a man in uniform."

"Hey, Rajende!"

The pair turned at the rough female voice, spying the asari walking their way. Salei spread his arms wide. "Vexille, my swee-"

"_Can it_, Gin." Vexille snapped. As Salei began to pout, her purple eyes softened as she turned to her companion. "Go on, Neen. Tell him."

The volus, who had waddled up unnoticed until this point, breathed in a static breath. If there was one thing that could be said about Neen, he was one of the best network agents on the Citadel, but had no self-confidence to speak of. Etlun felt his eyebrow ridge quirk, but kept his voice even. "What's up, Neen?"

"Um-" _weeze_ "Well, there was this request that came through today for your records." Neen took another breath. "_Spectre_ level clearance."

"A Spectre?" Selai spoke up, a smile overtaking all of his features. He gave Etlun's shoulder a playful punch, which the turian promptly shook off. "Etlun, you dog, you."

"It caused quite a fuss, especially-" _huweeze _"When Executor Pallin found out. He wanted it kept quiet" Neen shifted with another regulated breathe "But I thought you might want to know someone was checking up on you."

"I appreciate it, Neen."

And, while he did, it made Etlun very aware of a prickle at the back of his neck warning him of impending doom.

* * *

**Mass Effect © BioWare**

**Original Characters © Their Respective Owners**


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